From The PRIVATE Files of A Genius
by Harmonic Friction
Summary: Step into Draco Malfoy's private journal, where things you may have never believed are true, and many people are dissed. Learn of his love for a Mudblood, and his father's.. uh.. secret?
1. Are You Listening, Diary?

**Disclaimer: I do not own any Harry Potter characters. Sad, but true.  
  
**Rated PG13 for mild language, teen humor, and some racy puns.  
  
**Author's note: This is just a quick, fun little narration of seventh year happenings in Draco's point of view. Some of the things said in here are completely rude, and it's because I really try to become the character. For example, the term 'dyke' is used, and it's one that I hate. So, I want you to know that I am writing IN CHARACTER. I truly do hate Ginny, though. ^_^ I had a good time writing it, so I hope you enjoy it!  
  
*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^  
  
THE SEVENTH YEAR  
  
*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^  
  
Dear Journal,  
  
It's me, Draco. Who else, eh? And it's my last year at Hogwarts! Thank Lord Voldemort graduation is in two months and three days! I've spent seven years in this same drab place with the same bloody wallies.. Sometimes I feel like shouting! Other times, I just shout!  
  
UGH! Some people have stayed the same, like Harry Potter. He's still got his perfect scar, winning his perfect Quidditch games, being his perfect heroic self. How perfectly tedious!  
  
Justin Finch-Fletchley is still a prat. Professor Snape smiles now, but only once every three months. Colin Creevey is suddenly tall, and does not have a chipmunk voice, yet he is still obnoxious. (Somehow...)  
  
Now for the girls... Pansy Parkinson's breasts have NOT grown any larger! She is always looking for me, even when I'm in the loo. She waits outside, so I won't have time to run. She is quite tiresome, and does NOT make up for it in curves.  
  
Hermione Granger, on the other hand, so completely, super, extremely HOT. She's got boobs, she's still smarter than anyone on earth, and I piss her off SO much, that it's completely hysterical. We were placed together as Potions partners, so I sit by her every Wednesday and Friday. Tis wicked.  
  
I yank her hair, bump into her while walking through the halls, make her drop her books, call her a "Mudblood"... Ooh, she gets positively enraged! But it makes her sexier! I've thought about asking her to be my girlfriend, and I've even tried to ask her out! But, every time I try (like yesterday), something completely wrong comes out of my mouth. (That sounds a little sexual doesn't it?... Oh well.)  
  
For example, yesterday, I went up to her and was about to say 'Want to walk around the garden tonight?' , but Harry and Weasel- Head were with her. I stared at all three of them for a long while ( a total of 3.8 seconds), and then said," Lookie here. It's Granger, the infamous Mudblood dyke- slag... uh.. shrew."  
  
Like I always say: So many comebacks, so little time.  
  
"Go stuff YOURSELF you bloody c-" screamed Ron, but Hermione interrupted him, holding up her hand.  
  
"So immature," she remarked, glaring daggers at me.  
Perhaps she fancies me!.....  
  
But I've got competition, because I'm pretty certain that Weasley fancies her. Neville Longbottom likes her as well, and that's a bit obvious, because in Potions- oh, never mind. You get the picture. They've liked her forever. WELL, SO HAVE I!  
  
((To Be Continued))  
  
-Draco L. Malfoy 


	2. Thanks A lot, Dad

Dear Journal-  
  
Now that I think on it, that's no competition at all. Weasley is still poor, and Neville's gone all Gothic on us.  
  
At first, it just didn't work, you know? But now, I'm used to the black eye liner and all of his earrings. He's the same dope beneath the costume though.  
  
Only last week, he fell down the stairs, and not just for old time's sake, either. Beside the appearance, not much has changed.  
  
Last year, he dated Ginny Ew-easley for three days before she broke up with him. She's still in love with Harry. Stupid malnutritioned twit girl.  
  
SHE even has a bigger rack than Pansy! How sad is that? She continues to mope around and drawl at people in her weak little voice. I love imitating her: 'Oh, yays, 'oim goin' ta tha dawnce. But thare's nawone ta take meh! Oi! Croi meh a riva, mate!' (say it aloud, diary- it'll make perfect sense)  
  
Sometimes, I like to sneak up behind her and pretend I'm Tom Riddle. I deepen my voice in this fantastic freaky way, and I whisper hoarsely, ' Ginny, I've come back for you... RESURRECTION!' A couple of times, she's screamed. Once, she cried. Ha, ha, ha. Then, she reported me. Damn, damn, damn.  
  
I am now the same height as Greg Goyle and Vincent Crabbe, but they're still huge cows. Millicent Bulstrode dated Crabbe for about a month before she came out as a lesbian. I'm still making fun of Crabbe for that. I don't blame girls for becoming dykes after kissing him. Sad, really.  
  
Father asks me the same question every month: "Do you have a girlfriend YET?" The answer that I want to reply with is "Do you know how to keep out of my business yet?", but I decide against that and usually go for "No, Father." Then, he'll pause, and say," If you're a homosexual, Draco, we can talk it through."  
  
That really angers me. I mean REALLY ANGERS MEEEE!  
  
In previous situations, I normally have said,"I'm not", but last Christmas, I just COULD NOT TAKE IT! (**Music playing** Draco's not gonna take it..)  
  
I yelled at the top of my lungs," I AM NOT A BLEEDING FAIRY!"  
  
Mother looked horrified. Father sort of growled at me, and bellowed, " DON'T USE THAT TONE WITH ME, and DON'T EVER USE THAT OFFENSIVE LANGUAGE AGAIN!"  
  
To that, I smirked, and said," Yes, sir."  
  
"Do you want to be punished, smart ass?" he hissed, face darkening, though it was still a shade of peaked chalk.  
  
"No, Lucius.. Please!" Mother pleaded, grasping his shoulder in uttermost drama.  
  
"I don't see why I should get punished for not being a queer," I declared angrily.  
  
"There is nothing wrong with it, Draco," he returned snidely.  
  
"Did I say there WAS?"  
  
"All that I AM saying is that when I was your age, I experimented, and there is nothing wrong with that at all. I discovered wonderful things about the male gender. It's in the genes, Draco." He smiled calmly, as though remembering some pleasurable experience.  
  
Mother sighed very loudly, and took in very deep breaths, as though she might have died any moment.  
  
I stared at him. "YOU are GAY?"  
  
"No," he chortled. "How could I be gay?" There was a pause, and then he said simply," I am a bisexual."  
  
"UUGGHHHHH!" I screamed. "You've done it with MEN?"  
  
Mother was whispering things to herself crazily, fingering her huge wedding ring.  
  
Father seemed to be amused. "Well, as the young children would say: Duh."  
  
I made a petrified face, and said," I feel like vomiting all over the rug, but as we have not had dinner yet, I can't." I turned, and began to jog away.  
  
"Now wait just a moment," Father exclaimed gruffly.  
  
I whipped around. "Can I please go back to school? You're grossing me out."  
  
"You are a hypocrite, Draco Malfoy!" he stated wryly. "I thought you just said that there wasn't anything wrong with homosexuality," he protested.  
  
I smiled in annoyance, and responded, "There isn't anything wrong with it... Unless it's your DAD and you LIVE with him! See you later. I'm going to Knockturn Alley. I'll be back at ten."  
  
And that was the end of that particular argument. I could NOT believe my father, telling his perverted stories to an all ready troubled mind. I thought about telling him my love for Hermione, to try and shock him as much as he'd done me. I decided against it. Every now and then, I feel like I should tell him. But those are only the times when I have a death wish. 


	3. Brawls And Bums

Dear Journal,  
  
It is now Friday. HA HA HA, you stupid pad of connected paper! You don't ever get to party! Whoa, I am extremely hyper and am laughing my head off. Must stick face out of window for air. Will be back.  
  
All right, I'm here once more. Today was super cool with knobs! In Potions, we dissected hippogriff livers, and I pretended mine was from Buckbeak. I squeezed some of the blood out onto Hermione's robes, and guess what: She slapped me! We made contact! I am so proud, that I think I should act that way more often!  
  
Then, lunch was mushroom omelets with fries, and that's where I heard that Ginny Weasley is in big trouble for plagiarism.  
  
Apparently, she stole one of Seamus Finnigan's essays on the Irish magic college in Dublin (one topic he's an expert on), and she FORGOT TO CHANGE THE NAME! I hope her dad gets fired because of that.  
  
Speaking of "dads", there is some trouble going on at home, and I don't want it to get around. Mother sent an owl saying that she and Father are in an awful fight; she thinks he's been cheating on her with at least six male Death Eaters- in- training. Hopefully it's a lie, but I have a distinct feeling that this isn't just another Malfoy Family Exaggeration.  
  
MUST CHANGE SUBJECT!!!  
  
I got into a fist fight with Ron Weasley yesterday. It wasn't my fault that time, though. Weasley was just sore because Hermione slapped ME and not HIM! Ha, what a sucker!  
  
He told me that if I ever bothered her again, he'd have to use my spleen as a Quaffle. So, naturally, I socked him between the eyes.  
  
Hermione, a Prefect, and Neville, a tag along, rushed over to holler at us and kick at us, and remind us of how many school rules we were breaking.  
  
I got off of Weasley immediately, though not because of Hermione. It was because I didn't want Longbottom driving a spike square through my heart. I had a nightmare about that in sixth year, and I am not able to forget it. I mean, you never know what he'll do, with those raving lunatic parents he's got! Creepy...  
  
That dumb old bird, McGonnagal sent us to the Headmaster's office for a "talk". Once we got into Dumbledore's office, he said he should send a letter to my father. Here's something that's changed: I don't care what Father thinks.  
  
I used to try and please him- impress him every chance that I got. I used to feel bad if our opinions differed even the slightest bit. In fewer words: I used to look up to him. But now that my eyes are level with his, I don't have to look up to him anymore.  
  
To Dumbley-Dorey, I said," Are you trying to scare me?"  
  
"No, not at all, Mr. Malfoy," he replied in his dreamy, tired voice. "Why do you say that?"  
  
'What in the blazes?' I thought in annoyance. "I SAY that because you're acting as though it's some sort of cruel punishment to write my father, saying I got into one measly fight. And it wasn't even my fault! That'd be wasting my parents' precious time, and they have enough on their hands." I snorted. "Father will be pissed, I tell you."  
  
That is the truth. Father's been pissed ever since he got let out of Azkaban last year. He managed to pretend Voldie had put him in a trance and made him do "those terrible things". What a pile of dragon shit!  
  
The Headmaster smiled weakly. "Do you think that this matter is all that I would tell Lucius about?"  
  
I sort of glared at him, and then snorted again, shaking my head in aggravation.  
  
He was probably referring to the time Pansy shoved her tongue down my throat just as he rounded the corner and spied us. That wasn't my fault in the least, yet I still served my detention without a single complaint. (Well, perhaps one.)  
  
Then, as Slytherin's quidditch captain, I had all of my members bewitch the Gryffindork brooms so that they only levitated about one foot in the air. The match that day was canceled for broom stripping, and luckily, I was not caught, though the Headmaster had that twinkle in his eye every time he looked at me. That wasn't even the best I've done, though.  
  
That came a few weeks later, in Intermediate Potions, when I placed a Mind- Reading charm on Hermione, as she seemed to be in some sort of trance.  
  
"Wow," she exclaimed loudly. "Professor Snape has a cute arse!"  
  
The entire class burst out guffawing, as Professor Snape, who had been writing on the chalk board with his back- end facing us, whipped around and took twenty points from Gryffindor. His ears were pink.  
  
OH DAMN! Late for dinner, and it's turkey night! I'll finish up later, then?  
  
-Draco L. Malfoy 


	4. Crazy Pansy Parkinson

Journal,  
  
I'm back. The turkey was good, and some twit named Michael Corner got a detention for starting a mashed potato fight.  
  
So anyway, about Snape and his "cute" bum. That definitely was not something I expected to come out of Hermione's mouth, and it made me jealous. I mean, think about it: She's checking out Snape's ass and not mine!? Come on! No offense to Snape, but he's about fifty years old now! For Salazaar's sake, am I THAT repulsive that a girl my age would pay more attention to her TEACHER???  
  
I think Hermione felt really bad about everyone hearing her say that and I don't blame her.  
  
After that class (which was the last of the day), I was trying to do my homework, but in reality FUMING over what had just happened, when (guess who?) Pansy Parkinson sat down next to me. She put her head on my shoulder.  
  
"Do I have a nice arse?" she asked.  
  
"Do you WHAT?"  
  
She giggled. "You know what I said, Draco."  
  
I gave her a Look. "I don't know. It's either very large, or your jeans are very tight."  
  
"My jeans are tight," she snapped instantly.  
  
"Okay," I replied, glancing down again at my Potions report. Damn you, Snape! Taking my lover!  
  
"I like yours," she whispered. "And I like everything else about you as well," she smiled in a gooey way.  
  
"That's nice," I shrugged," but may I work in peace?"  
  
"Want to frisk me?" she asked quickly.  
  
My eyes widened. "What did you say?"  
  
"Let's do it," she said softly, and ran her tongue up my ear lobe.  
  
Holy hell. What a Slytherin slut!  
  
I felt really stupid, like I wanted to because she was there, but didn't, because I hate her.  
  
"I want you, Draco Malfoy. So let's give it a go." She nuzzled my cheek.  
  
I blinked at her. Give it a 'go'? 'Let's give it a GO'? She made it sound like it was some one second deal that meant nothing, but I know better. Had she gone mental? The middle of the Slytherin common room isn't really a place for sex. I could just imagine the little first years walking in right at the climax. Ewwww...  
  
"Erm, I 've got to write up an essay for tomorrow. It's uh- for a class that you don't have," I lied casually.  
  
She pouted. "Right. Later then? No one comes out here at night!"  
  
I did my best to provide a sexy smile. "You're on."  
  
We went to the Great Hall for dinner shortly after, and then, I told Pansy I had to use the restroom. She said she'd wait outside the door for me.  
  
That was the night that I sat upon the toilet, fully closed, with legs crossed neatly under me so that no one could see my feet.  
  
After a l-o-o-o-n-g while, she yelled that she would meet me back in commons. I waited until all was safe, and then darted up to the nurse's office.  
  
When I realized that Madame Pomphrey would only let me stay there if there was something wrong with me, I did something very stupid. I focused hard, and pointed my wand at my face, then yelled," YOU'LL PAY FOR THAT ONE , MALFOY!"  
  
It worked. I began to barf up huge slugs. It was a rough night. But every little bit was worth it.  
  
When I went to first period the next morning (I wasn't feeling up to breakfast), people kept staring and me and whispering. These certain people were girls, and to be more exact, Slytherin girls.  
  
Pansy seemed severely depressed. She dropped a note on my desk that read in pink, glittering letters: 'Where were you?'  
  
I scribbled out a reply as quick as I could manage. It said 'food poisoning caused me to vomit up most of my vital organs during the night. Had to got to hospital wing. Sincerely, Draco Malfoy  
  
PS: Just kidding about the organs part, though I was quite sick.'  
  
I folded it neatly, and threw it at her head. I thought it quite brilliant! I didn't have to lie very much!  
  
She snatched up the note and read it, he nose scrunched up in what I hoped was disgust. When she finished, she grinned at me. "I believe you, Draco. I thought you'd stood me up, but I should have known you'd never do that," she gushed.  
  
"Yes, I thought you knew me," I replied.  
  
Inside, I was thinking 'how thick are you, exactly'?  
  
That was when the rumors started. Those weren't the first about me, but most definitely the worst. can you believe that someone would have the nerve to tell lies about me?  
  
It was about a week after the slug night, when I noticed people were whispering in the halls as I walked through. At first, I didn't think it was me they were discussing, until I walked past a herd of Hufflepuffs, and Susan Bones declared," There's Malfoy, the nasty bugger!"  
  
The lot of them all scowled at me in what I took to be ultimate fury.  
  
"What are you duffers on about?" I demanded.  
  
"Don't play dumb, Malfoy," Ernie Macmillan replied. "We heard about what you did!"  
  
I stared at them in blank confusion, and continued down the hall.  
  
During Divination, Weasley and Potter looked at me as though planning a funeral. Neville Longbottom peered out at me from under black bangs, and whispered something to Hermione. I distinctly heard him say 'Pansy'. Hermione looked shocked.  
  
"What a PIG," she declared hotly, rolling her eyes. She'd been quite angry ever since Honors Divination showed up on her schedule for this semester, but she decided she'd better take it any way. From what I'd heard, she used to be very rude to Trelawney, but she'd never called anyone a pig.  
  
I was dumbfounded.  
  
A good ten minutes into class, I realized that every single person was giving me bad looks, especially that crazy centaur. When work time started, I turned to Blaise Zabini, a Slytherin girl, and inquired," What in the Hell is wrong with these wallies?"  
  
She gave me a strange look. "They know what you did. But don't worry. I'm not blaming it all on you."  
  
"What are you talking about? "I cried in frustration.  
  
"Ooh.. She didn't tell you?"  
  
"Who didn't tell me what?" I snarled.  
  
She grinned at me. "Pansy's in the hospital wing. You got her pregnant."  
  
I fell out of my chair and fainted.  
  
I awoke a moment later, feeling groggy, as Trelawney dangled smelling salts in my face.  
  
"Don't show him mercy like that!" Ron roared, and smacked me in the face. "Die, you loser! DIE!" The centaur calmly told Ron to 'quit it, you simple human'.  
  
"GAAAH!!!" I shouted, standing up. "It's a lie!"  
  
Madame Trelawney blinked. "I predicted it, my dear. You are cursed."  
  
"No. IT'S A RUMOR," I bellowed.  
  
"How could it be? Pansy says you did her last month," Millicent Bulstrode scoffed.  
  
"Excuse me? 'PANSY says'?" I repeated.  
  
Neville nodded. "She told me it was fast, but excellent." He revealed this with a heavy tone of disgust.  
  
Without asking permission, I ran out of that dreaded classroom, and jumped down the trap door.  
  
In about half a second, I was in Madame Pomphrey's room. She and Pansy seemed to be in the midst of a heated argument.  
  
"HOW DARE YOU!" I shouted, waving my pointer finger at her madly.  
  
"Mr. Malfoy, sit down over here, please." Pomphrey gestured to a spot near Pansy. "Let's talk about this."  
  
"That's the thing! There isn't anything to talk about!" I snapped, stalking over to Pansy. "You know I never did anything like that- NOTHING! How could you? My reputation is shot! Dead! Ruined! My Prefect duties are over, not that I liked them anyway, but that's not the point now, is it? THE POINT IS THAT I'M NOT A PERVERT! Why would you do this? I don't believe it!"  
  
"I thought you'd want to believe it," she sniffed.  
  
"Believe what? That we did the dirty and I wasn't even there for it?" I threw up my hands. "I have enough troubles without people talking about a sex life that I don't have!"  
  
"You don't have to get mad," she stated, as though I were the crazy one.  
  
ME? Me, the nutter? No sir, the nutter was not Ron this time, or Gilderoy Lockhart. It wasn't even my father. It was PANSY PARKINSON.  
  
Madame Pomphrey raised an eyebrow. "There is no question about this, Ms. Parkinson. For one, you are not pregnant, and secondly, this is most inappropriate."  
  
"I'll say," I scoffed.  
  
"Mr. Malfoy, you may leave."  
  
Pansy began to cry.  
  
So from that day on, I haven't just loathed Pansy. I've loathed her with a passion.  
  
Fortunately, people forgot about that rumor the next day, because there was a big brawl between Justin Finch-Fletchley and Seamus Finnigan.  
  
Justin poked fun at Finnigan's Irish heritage, so Finnigan scorched Justin's eyebrows straight off his face. Boy, he's an odd little Irish twit! He still talks about his Muggle father, who raises sheep on a farm and sews wool coats to sell to people.  
  
I laughed during a 'serious' story he told during Muggle Studies about his father's family curse, and he started screaming at me! He offends me.  
  
Well, when I actually date Hermione Granger, I'll get back to you.  
  
Till next time-  
  
Draco L. Malfoy 


End file.
